


Portraits of Us

by littlemarch



Category: Little Women (2019), Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: Art, Awkward Flirting, Beth Lives, Break Up, Champagne, Comfort, Coming of Age, Desire, Drinking, Europe, F/M, Family, Fanfiction, Flirting, France (Country), Fred Vaughn is actually a decent guy, Fred Vaughn stan club, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, I don’t accept Amy March slander, Inspired by Novel, Laurie and Amy supremacy, Love, Novel, OTP Feels, POV Multiple, Painting, Paris (City), Picnics, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:33:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemarch/pseuds/littlemarch
Summary: Laurie looked out the window, observing the smiling face of his dearest Amy. She just laughed. What did he say to paint that wonderful smile on her face, and why didn’t that same smile appear around him anymore?What could he do to get it back?*Laurie is faced with struggles of his love for Amy March, and is caught up in a constant state of denial. Amy struggles with the future that is presented in front of her, and is completely clueless when it comes to having to accept it.
Relationships: Amy March/Fred Vaughn, Friedrich Bhaer/Josephine March, John Brooke/Margaret March, Theodore Laurence & Amy March, Theodore Laurence/Amy March
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	1. Sweet Longing

“Well, how do I look?” Amy asked, her voice filling the silence between her and the Laurence boy.

”You look beautiful. You _are_ beautiful,” Laurie replied. His eyes watched as his Amy smiled in gratitude before quickly turning on her heel to meet her lover.

 _She grew,_ Laurie thought to himself. It had been years. Of course she grew. She wouldn’t be the same thirteen-year-old girl with braids. 

She wasn’t obsessed with the shape of her foot and nose, and she wasn’t in trouble for selling limes and for drawing comical sketches of her rude teachers anymore. Amy was still Amy, but now Laurie had to see her in a different lens. All grown up.

Amy would often grumble about how her paintings were so mediocre and horrible compared to the creativeness of Parisian artists. It made him miss the innocent girl he once knew. She was passionate about her talent, and now she was giving up.

Instead of persevering and pursuing her dreams of becoming a world-renowned artist, she was giving up and trusting that foul, vazey fool, Fred Vaughn.

Perhaps it would be good for her reputation. He was richer than Laurie was, just as she said. He wanted the things that she wanted. Marriage, a family, and a high place in society were both things that they often dreamed of having.

Fred had it all figured out already, and Laurie had not.

Maybe that was why she wasn’t in his arms. If Laurie had known that he would regret the day that he introduced Fred to Amy, maybe Amy would be his. 

So many _ifs_.

Laurie looked out the window, observing the smiling face of his dearest Amy. She just laughed. What did he say to paint that wonderful smile on her face, and why didn’t that same smile appear around him anymore? 

What could he do to get it back?

*

“Amy, my love, you’re the light of my life. I love you. You know that. So, i’ve been thinking of marriage. I’ve already asked your Aunt March, and she-” 

“Marriage?” Amy interrupted the man beside her as she slipped her gloved hand away from his grasp. “Fred, darling, I-“

“It’s been more than a year, Amy. We’ve discussed this. It’s our dream, do you remember? The French Countryside with out children, ballroom dances, and evening tea parties— we could have it all.” Fred searched Amy’s eyes for an answer, but she broke her gaze before she had to react.

Fred inhaled and accepted the silence, placing his hands in his lap, patiently waiting for Amy to say something.

It took the March girl all of her strength to refrain herself from running away from her problem. It was something that she was notorious for doing as a child. Amy had spent an awful amount of time telling herself that because she was older, her problems were never supposed to affect how she acted. She wanted to be like Marmee. 

Marmee was calm, and she would know how to manage her frustration. Maybe she’d sit down and embroider something, or maybe she’d write a letter to Father.

Thousands of thoughts rushed through Amy’s mind, but she finally mustered up the courage to speak. “I need more time, Fred. I love you. I truly do, and I promise that I will always be perfectly honest with you. I’m just not ready.” 

Is that really the case?  Amy heard a voice whisper in her head. The same voice kept telling her that she should just break things off and leave. 

Why? Why would she leave?

Marriage was all she ever wanted. She knew she would marry rich, and Fred was there, prepared to give her the life that she wanted. 

She had just told Laurie that she would be respected if she couldn’t be loved. Why couldn’t she stick to that statement? Why resist?

Fred took Amy’s hand in his and raised it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles. Why did he have to be so understanding?  Damn his good heart,  Amy thought.

“I’ll wait for you, Amy. As long as it takes. I’ll be here for you, waiting until the day where we’re standing together, telling our story, and marveling at the painted portraits of us.”


	2. Champagne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tw for drunkeness. Laurie tends to have a habit.   
> I won’t be writing the drinking process , but yes, Laurie will be drunk.   
> These first few chapters are rough, but bear with me!

Laurie watched as Amy’s pencil scratched on her paper, tapping his foot on the ground as the artist tried to concentrate.

Amy was already upset at Laurie for showing up drunk, but she told herself to calm down and to focus on the portrait that she promised Laurie she would draw. Perhaps this would just be a rough sketch— maybe she would paint it for him. It didn’t matter. Laurie would be her last portrait. This would be it. No more paintings, no more sketches, and no more sculptures. She was finally ready to give up her foolish dream and become an ornament to society.

Laurie continued to pester Amy with his constant drumming of his feet, and she put her pencil down and stared at him. It made him laugh like a complete idiot, but the March girl didn’t find it a bit appealing.

”Stop it, Laurie.”

”Ah, Saint Amy! How nice of you to join me today. Would you like a drink?”

Amy set down her notebook and scoffed, shaking her head in frustration. Just like that night at the party, Laurie had proven her wrong. 

Laurie didn’t grow up. He hadn’t matured. He didn’t learn, or at least not like she did. Laurie was still a foolish teenage boy that didn’t have any care in the world, and his drunkenness was only making her think even worse things of him. 

“I feel sorry for you, Theodore Laurence. It must have been embarrassing to be turned down by my sister, but that gives you no reason to be an irresponsible child.” The youngest March sister stood up from her spot on the picnic blanket, her movements being closely examined by Laurie. “Why do you do this to yourself? You could work for your grandfather— make a name for yourself.”

Amy stared down at the boy, who was still lying down on the ground, drunkenly humming to himself. Amy found his humming to be obnoxious, and although Laurie’s mind was contaminated by drunk thoughts, he knew she was incredibly mad at him.

“You know, Amy, when I was touring Europe, I did myself a favor of seeing which country had the _best_ champagne.” Laurie sat up, propping himself up with his palms. “All of that money can’t go to waste, little March.”

Amy swallowed down the ton of insults that rang in her mind, telling her to put Laurie in his place. 

She thought of Marmee instead, and thought about how she would have patience. Marmee would do the right thing— she always did.

“You’ll stop drinking, Laurie. I won’t be here for you if you do this again.” 

“You’re bluffing, little March.”

“I’d do no such thing. March girls don’t bluff.” 

Laurie laughed, lying back down on the picnic blanket with a long sigh. “Fred Vaughn told me that he _proposed_ an idea, you know.”

*  
_“_ _I told her, Laurie. I told her that I would marry her, and she couldn’t even bear to look at me.”_

_“That’s ridiculous. It’s all she’s ever wanted. You’re all she’s ever wanted.” Laurie laughed, taking a big gulp from the champagne glass that sat in his hand. Perhaps that would drown out all of the things that he wanted to say. He wondered when he would see his Amy again._

_“Have you said something to her?”_

_“Are you mad? What could I ever say to make her doubt you?”_

_“Many things, I suppose. You see the way she looked at you when she was young?”_

_“I was far too busy looking at her sister, chap. Amy never looked at me. She promised you that she’d find you in Europe. Don’t you recall?”_

_“I love her, but I’m not blind, Laurie. You won’t say anything to her. You won’t ruin this.”_

_*  
_

“I haven’t said yes, and I haven’t said no. I said I needed time. That means nothing.” Amy secretly doubted that statement. It was just a cover-up for the fact that she didn’t know why she didn’t want to marry Fred.

“It means everything. Even as I sit in your presence, as drunk as a coward, I know that it means something. Why won’t you marry him?” 

“When did you become so inquisitive, Theodore Laurence?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue. Perhaps it’s the champagne.”


	3. Mornings Without ....?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emptiness is their companion.

Each night as Laurie would lie down in his bed, he would think. He did that more often, much to his own surprise. 

Sometimes Laurie would think of women, food, the things he experienced in Europe, and many other things, but he mostly thought about women.

There were the Parisian women that were at his feet, kissing at his knuckles and brushing their fans across their lovely bosoms for his attention.

There were the Italian women that would pull him along for some wine, take him to the most wonderful places, and make him laugh harder than he ever did before.

And then there were the March sisters. Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. His wonderful girls. 

Everyday, he thought of every single one of them. He would wonder about Meg and her little messages written into John’s letters to Laurie, he would think about the books that Jo must be writing, he would think about Beth and the sweet music that he wished to hear once again, and he thought about Amy.

His sweet Amy.

He would dream of her, see her lying beside him, with the sun shining down on her luscious golden locks. He would see her bare shoulders, marked with his love for her, and her eyes, filled with love and desire.

Her plump lips were calling for his attention, and her cheeks longed to be cupped in his hands.

And then he would wake up, in the early morning, and find his bed to be empty. No sunshine, no golden hair, no shoulders and lips to kiss, and no eyes to drown in. There was no Amy.

He was sure that Fred had these things. That Fred would wake up next to the love of Laurie’s life, kissing the lips that he longed to kiss.

Amy wasn’t his. And each morning was a haunting reminder of that. It tortured him, and it taunted him each time he saw the two of them together.

_What would it be like_ ,  he wondered,  _ to wake up next to her? What would she feel like in my arms, knowing that she is mine and mine alone? Why is she not here with me, but him instead?  _

His hand would touch the empty spot beside him— he kept it empty as if she would come and lay down beside him at night. He knew it would never happen, but one can dream.

*

“You left early. I felt you leave.” Fred stepped towards Amy, reaching his hand out to rub her shoulder. 

Amy smiled softly, raising her hand to rest it on top of Fred’s. “I just needed to walk, that’s all. I’m sorry that I woke you.” 

Fred nodded and walked away from Amy, placing a cup of tea down on the table in front of her. Amy set down her pencil and put her sketch of Laurie into a notebook, and put it in her bag.

“You’re going to visit Laurie again today, I presume?” Fred asked politely, sitting down at the table, in front of Amy. She sipped her tea and hummed at the sensation of the warm liquid down her throat, and nodded in response to Fred’s question.

“Yes, I’ll meet him. Are you alright with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason at all, my love.”

“Well, I would hope not.” Fred smiled.

Amy hoped not, as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this one made me a little sad, but that was the whole point, so I must be doing something right.  
> As I said before, bear with me :)


	4. Indecisive

“So, you didn’t show up drunk this time.”

”What can I say, Amy? Improvements have been made. I’m a changed man!” Laurie grinned jokingly, opening his arms for Amy to come embrace him.

Amy couldn’t help but smile and laugh at Laurie’s joke as she walked over to him and hugged him. 

_It’s been so long since I’ve hugged him,_ Amy thought to herself, tightening her embrace. Laurie smiled at the action and planted a small kiss on the crown of her head.

”Alright, my sweet March, I must breathe if you want me to fulfill my no-drinking vow!”

Amy sat down and brushed her skirts out of the way as she pulled out her sketchbook. So many memories. So many drawings. They’ve changed so much since then.

“I want to take you somewhere after we’re done for today,” Laurie stated as he posed for his artist. 

A frown tugged on Amy’s lips. “I told Fred that I’d come home quickly. He’s waiting for me, and-“

”Do you really care that much about what your husband thinks, Amy?”

”He’s not my husband.”

Laurie furrowed his eyebrows. “He might as well be. It’s been more than a year, and you’re still together.” Amy didn’t answer, and kept on scribbling in her notebook.

 _He’s right._ Amy’s thoughts echoed in her ears, but she chose to ignore them. Her mind seemed to have a bias towards Laurie lately. 

The artist sighed and shifted in her seat, and Laurie spoke again. “Why didn’t you say anything, Amy? He’s going to get on one knee and put that question in front of your face sooner or later. You _do_ realize that, right?”

“We’ve been over this. He’s going to wait until I have an answer, and then-“

“You don’t want to marry him, Amy. It’s not what you want.”

Amy scoffed at Laurie’s remark, her grip tightening around her pencil. “This is what I have wanted since I was a little girl with braids. I’ve wanted this life since I can remember.” 

Laurie shook his head. “That still doesn’t explain why you won’t marry him.”

“I don’t know, Laurie. I don’t know _why_ I haven’t said yes. I don’t know why I haven’t said anything at all.”

“You haven’t said anything because you don’t want to marry him.”

“Stop assuming things.”

“That was not an assumption. I know that you don’t want to marry Fred, so don’t marry him.”

Amy set down her sketchbook and exhaled, pushing herself to calm down. Her mind still focused on those last four words, replaying them over and over again in her mind to haunt her.

Maybe she didn’t want to marry Fred. Maybe Laurie was right about something for a change. 

*

Laurie stared at Amy as her face went blank and unreadable. He didn’t like that. It made him nervous.

 _Please say something. Please say that you love me. Run to Fred and tell him that you won’t marry him. Come to me. Please,_ Laurie’s thoughts begged.

He had so many things that he wanted to say. But of course, Fred urged him to say nothing. But, who was Fred to tell Laurie what to do? Why should Laurie listen to his stupid pleas?

The uncertainty made Laurie worry. Amy was too quiet. Why wouldn’t she say anything? 

“I can’t talk about this with you, Laurie.”

“Rubbish. Fred said something, didn’t he?” 

“Stop putting this on Fred, Laurie. This is about you and I, and not about Fred.”

A silence filled the air. Amy realized what she said.

“You and I? That’s why you won’t marry him?” Laurie stood and stepped towards the March girl.

“You’ll forget about that statement, Theodore Laurence. You’ll leave the studio, go home, and go on with your day.” Amy couldn’t bear to look at Laurie at this point. With each step, Amy’s body screamed louder, aching to feel Laurie. 

“How can I forget— how can I _leave_ when all I feel for you is love and desire? How can I possibly forget that there could be the smallest chance that you love me as much as I love you?” Laurie’s hand cupped Amy’s cheek and then rested on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Don’t marry him, Amy. Be with me. I want to give you the world.”

Amy longed for more of his touch— for his lips, his hands— she wanted to hear his praise and admiration for her. Her body ached and yearned for it, but Fred stood between them.

Amy touched the necklace on her neck. _Fred._ He gave her nice things. He loved her. He had everything together. Fred wanted to marry Amy. He made that very clear. Laurie was right. Fred would really propose soon enough.

The March girl stared up at the tall boy in front of her and smiled.

Laurie thought she looked radiant in that moment, just like every moment. 

“I have to go now, Laurie.” Amy picked up her bag and stepped away, making Laurie’s hand drop to his side. 

His finger twitched. There was nothing to touch. Emptiness.

“I love you, my sweet March.”

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey :) this will probably have slow updates because a school and a pandemic is a lot to handle.


End file.
